Page 16 of A Debt Inherited

Hugh inclined his head. “As Dowager Countess.”

Marjorie watched him make the amendment without surrendering anything. Her father would have cursed. Julian would have smiled, begged pardon, and meant half of it. Hugh only set the title where it belonged and continued.

“Her ladyship’s jointure is secured under the terms of the marriage articles. The south rooms remain at her disposal for as long as she desires them. Her own maid, two women servants, and the footman named in the settlement remain attached to her household. The carriage and pair are to be maintained. Her quarterly allowance will be paid without delay.”

Lady Isobel inclined her head. “I am obliged.”

“No obligation is necessary,” Hugh replied.

Not obligation. Accuracy. Marjorie looked down at her own hands. Accuracy, from him, had the sound of a door closing gently.

Mr Ballantyne’s pen moved once across the paper, and the sound seemed louder than speech.

Marjorie looked at Julian’s portrait. The painter’s blue coat still held its colour. The gold at his hairline still caught the winter light. He looked as if he might laugh at all of them for giving parchment so much ceremony.

“Lady Marjorie Kerr,” Hugh said.

Her name brought her eyes back to him.

“Your settlement from Drumcairn stands apart from Glenbride. Major Kerr’s provisions for you remain under the administration of his trustees. Your widow’s annuity is unaffected by my brother’s death or by my succession. Drumcairn House remains yours for residence should you choose to remove there.”

Should you choose.

Marjorie heard the phrase settle upon the desk among the other papers. It was not an order. That made it worse.

“And my son?” she asked.

Hugh turned one page. “Alexander Kerr’s paternal interests remain under the Kerr settlement. Mr Ballantyne has obtained a copy of the relevant abstract.”

Mr Ballantyne inclined his head. “I have, my lady.”

“It seemed proper to have all interests distinguished,” Hugh said.

Distinguished. Not protected. Not cherished. Distinguished.

Marjorie said nothing.

Hugh returned to the memorandum. “Lady Marjorie, no claim will be made upon your Drumcairn income while you remain at Glenbride. Your apartments here remain yours. Your servants will not be disturbed. Nurse Mackay will be paid from the household accounts while Lady Marjorie’s son resides under this roof.”

Marjorie should have looked away. She did not. His eyes rested upon Lady Isobel, but not for long. They shifted to Marjorie, paused, and returned to the paper.

She had noticed it first when he spoke of residence. Again when he named Alexander. His looks neither lingered nor offended. They arrived and departed too cleanly to accuse.

Dr Kerr cleared his throat. “It is a mercy to see family order preserved after such losses.”

“We shall hope so,” Lady Isobel replied.

Dr Kerr accepted the answer as piety. Marjorie heard the iron beneath it.

Marjorie almost looked at her. Almost. But Hugh’s eyes had moved to her again.

“I hope, Lady Marjorie, you will not consider yourself pressed to leave Glenbride.”

She paused. “I am grateful for the assurance, my lord.”

He waited, as if gratitude were a paper requiring signature.

Lady Isobel’s hand worked her rosary. “Glenbride must have steadiness.”